Supernatural, The Dame Blanche
by PoisionedNightshade
Summary: The brothers are investigating a thin lead in a small frenchtown in Maine. What do you do when it tells you to kill your own brother? The response may bring grave consequences. (Brotherly-ness, and injured characters, especially hurt!Sam) (One-shot)


How did this happen...? That was a question Dean repeated over and over in his head as he limped as fast as he could through the dark hallways of the run down, abandoned castle like building. Dean was hurt. The evil cats and owls weren't helping that. They would sneak up on him while he ran through the corridors, the cats would hiss and scratch at his face, and the owls would swoop down and pull at his hair.

"Why does it seem...all creepy ghost ladies are into Sam every time...not complaining..." He murmured, gripping his arm as he eluded the crazy animals.

He took a deep intake of breath, squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the throbbing in his arm and leg. Once he caught his breath, he gripped his gun and cocked it.

"I'm coming for you Sammy, don't worry." Dean growled, "And I'm gonna kill that crazy white chick while I'm at it."

* * *

 _Two days earlier..._

"This motel actually looks kind of decent," noted Dean, leaning over to look at the sign. "okay Sammy, I'll go check us in, get our bags ready."

Sam grunted and turned to grab him and Dean's bags from the back and then waited for Dean to get back. The boy's settled in their motel room, and Sam set himself up on his computer and began searching.

"Good ol' Frenchville." Dean cleared his voice and sat down on his bed. "Pretty small town though, don't you think?"

"It's population is only 1,087 or maybe a little more, so yeah I'd say it's a pretty small town." Sam replied.

"Maine's kinda nice, too bad we don't have many cases here."

"Not so bad Dean," Sam sighed. "all that means is people aren't dying prematurely from monsters."

Dean shrugged. "Okay, so tell me what we've got here."

"Well, as I _explained_ in the car," Sam shot a look at Dean. "there's been two death's, both male. Both bodies were found apart, but in the same forest. One of them was found in a river dead from a blunt force blow to the head, probably from rocks, and the other had bite's, lacerations and various other injuries. Police are confused. I think we should go and check out the bodies at the morgue."

"Got any bright idea's to what might've killed these guys?"

"I'll have to look into it some more, but to be honest, things are a bit slow, and it's good to check this out anyways." Sam replied.

"I dunno, doesn't sound exactly like our kinda thing, ya know?"

"We've gone on less," Sam said, an eyebrow raised. "better to make sure rather than people dying prematurely from monster's."

Dean shrugged, "Alright-ie, might as well get going."

* * *

"Well, that was a waste of time." Dean grumbled as the brothers walked out of the small town's morgue.

Sam sighed in silent agreement.

"Alright Sam," Dean said as he got into the drivers seat of the Impala. "if this turns out to be a no-monster case, you owe me a twenty."

Sam let out an exasperated chuckle and nodded before saying breathlessly, "Okay. I think that we should check out where the bodies were found, and maybe talk to their families."

"I'll take the families you take the woods." Dean started the car and grinned at Sam.

The boy's split up again, and Dean inwardly groaned the whole time on his way to the house of the first victim. This case was bull (for the supernatural causes) and he knew it, it just didn't seem like their type of thing. Plus in a small town like this one, everyone could know each other and probably someone would have a grudge on one or two of them. Or maybe the two men left town often and made enemies. It didn't matter, nothing about the case seemed supernatural to Dean. He pulled his shirt a little as he knocked on the door of the first house.

It was opened to a kind looking woman, "Hello, can I help you?"

"Yes ma'am." Dean pulled out a fake badge."I'm with the FBI, are you Meline Redrok?"

"Why...yes, I am."

"I wanted to ask you a few questions about your husband."

"Oh...well, of course. Come on in." She smiled at Dean and moved aside so that he could come in. May I ask why the FBI is interested in my husbands death? It is but a small town..."

"The death is similar to a string of homicides we're looking into." Dean responded coolly, "I wish I could give you more information. Now, about your husband. Did he have any strange tendencies?"

"Well..." Meline chewed her lip for a moment. "...besides his short temper and drinking problem, I don't think so."

"Was your husband an addict?"

Meline sighed sadly, "Unfortunately."

Dean continued questioning Meline before thanking her and going on to the next woman. Once he was finished up he gave Sam a call. It rang for a bit before he heard his brother's voice on the other side of the line.

"Hello?"

"Hey, talked to the wives of both those dead dudes." Dean said. "Turns out the first guy who died from a rock was a drunkard who wasn't particularly nice, and the other guy who was beaten up and looked to be tortured to death, was actually a really nice normal french guy of this town. So if you can put two in two together in this inevitably un-unatural case...then I think we're good to go."

"Don't jump to conclusions yet," Sam said. "turns out that in the middle of where both men were found, there's a bridge, it's pretty deep in but there's no path to it and I can see a little further down that there's a kind of run down structure."

"Okay, great. You found a bridge."

"Dean." Sam scolded. "Okay, listen. I found a few owls nests-"

"Gee Sam, what a discovery. Take a moment to look around at _where_ you are currently." Dean barked, every word laced with sarcasm.

"Dean, there's a lot of feathers and cat hair across the bridge, it reminds me of something that I read in one of Bobby's old books once...but I have to be sure."

"Fine, you can look over that little baby hunch you've got there, but it's starting to look like that twenty dollars is mine dude."

Dean heard Sam sigh from the other end of the telephone.

* * *

"Got it."

Dean glanced over at Sam from his bed and his magazine.

"Got what?" He inquired lazily.

"Dame Blanches, or White Ladies, in French folklore. They are supernatural spirits or beings that hide in narrow areas or on bridges to get passerby attention. They ask, generally men, to dance or do other things like bow or get to their knees before they pass over the bridge or by her...and if they did it, they are allowed by, unharmed, and if they don't the Dame Blanches, or Dame Blanche, will either throw them off the bridge, or just plain out kill them, or torment them with her "lutin"'s, cats and owls." Sam explained, "But they were generally around a small region in France called Normandy. They aren't very popular, or common, but the death's of both men here relate to this. And the fact that this is a french town relates too."

Dean hummed, "Not entirely convinced yet. Why would this Dame White lady be in America anyways, if she was only in France...?"

"I don't know, but it's a good thing to start on, don't you think? I mean, the second victim had cat bites, and scratches that could most defiantly come from an owl...or a lutin-"

"What _is_ a lutin?"

"Some kind of hobgloblin in French fairy tails." Sam replied. "Anyways, the cat fur and feathers on the _bridge_ would lead to this and that forest was pretty narrow too. I think we have a lead, Dean."

Dean groaned and sat up a little more, "Okay, Dame Chick, we're grasping at thin straws, but we might as well dig into it a bit."

The boys made their way to the forest, the sun was going down, so that would make finding this french spirit " _easy"_ and "fun" in a perfect universe.

"Any ideas on how to kill this chick?"

"I guess we try a bullet, or a knife...we'll have to improvise if that doesn't work." Sam replied, looking ahead of them at the forest.

"Gee Sam," Dean grumbled. "we're really something. There's a small chance it is this lady, and we don't even know how to waste her."

Sam sighed, "I know, I know. Maybe we're a little rusty..."

"How can we be 'rusty' Sam? We haven't really been taking any breaks."

"Yeah, but most of the monsters we've been fighting are demons and werewolves...stuff we've already dealt with in the past. We haven't dealt with new things in quite a while, it's a change, but it'll help us in the future if we come across this thing again." Sam countered.

"Great, but we don't know how to kill it!" Dean was exasperated, "What if there's some special ritual we have to do to kill it, some special weapon or tool? We _wouldn't_ know. I think we're going into this a little too quickly Sam."

Dean's voice became more gravely as he went on with his rant. He was getting irritated. They had already spent almost two days dily-dallying and not working on shi*t.

"I know...but, it's better than another person dying."

"Who's going to come out here after two people already died in this place?"

"Dean, you'd be surprised at the idiots who seek "freaky ghost stuff" or adventure. They think it's cool."

"Who in the hell would think it's cool?!" Dean shook his head.

Sam shook his head with his brother. Sam paused for a moment when he heard what sounded like a hum.

"Did you hear that?" He asked quietly.

"Hear what?"

"Uh...nothing." Sam muttered. "Okay, when we find-"

"If."

" _When_ we find the Dame Blanche, we don't know what she'll do or how she'll react. And hopefully she's a talker because we are going to need to figure out how to kill her, we could try stabbing her...or shooting her-"

"But if that doesn't work-"

"We're probably screwed," finished Sam. "so we're going to need to find a weakness...and if she asks us to do something, we should probably do it. The legend said she can kill a man, and I'm sure it means she has some sort of ability to do so."

"Yeah, like some kind of ghost-throw-ya-around trick."

The boy's continued on, looking around, waving their flashlights in all directions. Sam heard what sounded like a mew from a cat, and scowled. "Did I just hear a cat?"

"I think you might've." Dean nudged his brother and pointed, "Is that the bridge you were talking about?"

"Yeah."

The brothers stepped onto the bridge and looked around. Sam looked over the edge and saw a deep-ish river, he shined his flashlight on a sharp rock and narrowed his eyes at the red shade it was. Blood? Maybe this was where the first victim died, and he floated downstream.

"Hey, goldie-locks, any thoughts on how to get this crazy b*tch to find us?" Dean questioned, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I don't-" Sam turned to talk to his brother, but his breath was caught in his throat.

He was face to face with a woman. Her hair was snow white and there was a grey veil over her face, but Sam could see her features quite clearly. Her eyes were dark and looked almost sunken...but they glinted in the flashlights light. Her lips were pale and thin, and her skin itself was paler than Sam had ever seen on any person. She was defiantly white.

"Bonjour..." her voice trailed off as she reached for Sam's face.

His natural instincts caused him to flinch away and take a step back.

"Sam-"

"Don't move Dean." Sam ordered.

"Not very kind of you." Dame Blanche said smoothly, her french accent very thick. "Though I suppose it is a good thing to do...I control this forest. It seem's you know who I am? Yes? You are giving me proper respect for those who's intentions are to... _kill_ me."

"You do have control of this forest." Sam placed his input in, slightly tilting his head as Dame Blanche took a step closer to him.

"And you have no clue how to kill me, yes? Because, a simple knife won't do the trick."

Sam didn't answer her. He just stared at her, stern face not wavering. "How did you get here? I thought the Dame Blanches were in France."

"I was getting bored of the same men...always obeying for the fear of me..." she looked past Sam thoughtfully. "I had to ask someone to take me here...and I can only maintain myself happily in somewhere French...oh...I do yearn for carnage sometimes...and the people here are quite stubborn...though just recently men have come this deep into my forest. It's quite enjoyable, yes."

Sam narrowed his eyes vaguely.

"Is that one a lover?" She glanced at Dean.

Sam opened his mouth to speak but Dean spoke before he could do so.

"Why do people always assume-no we're brothers." Dean growled.

Her body language became annoyed at Dean's outburst and she turned back to Sam.

"You wish to learn how to kill me...but that secrete lies in my home," she gestured to the other side of the bridge. "you must do something for me to pass."

"And you're gonna let us waste you just like that?" Dean inquired, a deep frown on his face.

Dame Blanche giggled, "Not just like that, non, non. You must do something for me first! And I choose, your name... _Sam_...to do it for me. You may pass if you do this one simple thing."

Sam remained quiet waiting for the old French legend to continue.

"All I want is for you..." She leaned close to Sam, a smile on her pale face as she traced his jawline. "...to kill your brother."

Well, obviously Sam couldn't do that. There was no way to fake it either, not that the Dame Blanche would fall for something like that. Sam met Dean's eyes and a clear message was written in both of their eyes.

 _Crap_.

"Well, will you do it?"

Sam brainstormed on the spot. He had to find a way to get out of the situation. Dame Blanche had mentioned that she enjoyed carnage. Maybe that meant if Sam refused she would take him and...no he didn't like the thought of it...torment him inside her home. It would buy Dean some time to look into how to kill her, if he moved quickly...but it was a long shot...and unfortunately the only option Sam could think of. Maybe she wouldn't hurt Dean either by being too preoccupied with Sam?

"No."

"Sam-"

" _No!?_ " The Dame Blanche sounded very offended. "Sam! I very much liked you! I would have shared how to kill me...if you just killed that pest! Well, I suppose it cannot be helped...and you...you have broken my heart!"

The next thing Sam saw was white and then black, and he heard his brother calling out his name desperately.

 _Crap, Crap, Crap._ Dean took off the moment the crazy french white chick and Sam disappeared in thin air, and he went straight towards the castle on the other side of the bridge. It looked to be about the size of a modern day house, but stone...and eerie. It'd be _fun_ to find his brother in there. As he approached the door, Dean was suddenly smacked to the side and fell to the ground. He unfortunately landed on one of the very sharp rocks on the ground and that created a large gash in his arm. He hissed in pain and gripped it as he got onto his knees.

An owl. An _owl_. It had knocked Dean over? Darn what was this spirit lady feeding these birds. Dean recovered quickly and jumped when he spotted at least seven cats, murderous intent in their eyes, coming at him. Usually, if Sam were there, he'd make a joke about how cute they were or something, but he couldn't now, not even alone. They were actually quite terrifying. Dean didn't know if he could look at a cat the same.

He raced to the castle door and banged on the front of it. Dean shouted in pain as something stabbed into his leg, making a gash deeper than the one in his arm. He looked down and almost jumped out of his skin when he found a very short man with a very long beard...he looked like a garden gnome. He held a long stick, it looked to be a very sharp poker. Dean pulled it out of his leg and kicked away the...what had Sam called it? A lubin? No, a lutin. He slammed into the door and once inside shut it as fast as humanly possible. He took a moment to catch his breath before looking down at his bleeding leg. Hadn't hit an artery, but it darn could get infected and needed to be sewn up badly.

"...crap..." Dean groaned.

A bloodcurdling scream caused Dean's heart to skip a beat. He recognized it the scream...

"S-Sammy-" He took a step forward but stopped abruptly when he saw a few shadows in front of him.

The hallway wasn't lit, whatsoever. So Dean really couldn't see what was in front of him. He fished the flashlight he put in his pocket out and shined it in front of him.

"Sonofa-" He narrowed his eyes at the scary amount of cats in the hallway. "...b*tch."

Another scream from his little brother echoed in his ears and so he made his move. He dashed straight towards the cats. They parted for him, but attacked his legs with their claws. It wasn't long before owls came swooping down at him as well. He released a determined war cry and dashed forward again. He shook off some of the cats and got ahead of the owls.

How did this happen...? That was a question Dean repeated over and over in his head as he limped as fast as he could through the dark hallways of the run down, abandoned castle like building. Dean was hurt. The evil cats and owls weren't helping that. They would sneak up on him while he ran through the corridors, the cats would hiss and scratch at his face, and the owls would swoop down and pull at his hair.

"Why does it seem...all creepy ghost ladies are into Sam every time...not complaining..." He murmured, gripping his arm as he eluded the crazy animals.

He took a deep intake of breath, squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the throbbing in his arm and leg. Once he caught his breath, he gripped his gun and cocked it.

"I'm coming for you Sammy, don't worry." Dean growled, "And I'm gonna kill that crazy white chick while I'm at it."

He looked around the corner he had just slipped towards, and was surprised to find no cats or owls waiting for him. He took a few steps and scowled. It was completely silent. Too...silent? Dean hissed when he heard another shout of pain from his brother. He took off running in the direction of his brother's voice. He stopped at an eerie door. Well, the whole place was eerie, but this door specifically was...bone chilling? Dean kicked at it in a futile attempt to break it down.

"Sam!" He hollered after another yell from his brother.

He looked around at what he could use and found nothing. He tried at the door handle, but was dismayed to find it was locked. _Locked_. This was an old building, Dean could very easily pick the lock. He knelt down with shaky hands and began to work with what he had with him.

"D*mn it..." He was having trouble concentrating on anything except the pained screams of his little brother.

Finally he heard a satisfying click and he opened the door at the speed of light. The moment he got full view of the room, he felt his stomach churn... _so that's where the animals went_. His brother was strapped to a table, being ripped up by Dame Blanche's finger nails...surrounding him were a few cats, biting and scratching, owls, and two lutins, assisting in the torment of Sam. In the room, cats were all over the floor, along with the owls in the rafters.

And Sam himself...he looked horrible. His shirt had been almost completely ripped, only hanging on him by a few strings. His shoes were gone, and his pants were ripped up to his knees. On his exposed skin, were bruises, bites, lacerations...etc. It filled Dean with rage to see him like that. Dame Blanche turned towards Dean, and pulled her hands out of Sam's chest. A smile crept onto her white face, "I knew you'd be here soon. I was just wrapping things up, yes. You get a fantastic view of your brother's death!"

Dean pointed his gun at her, a fierce glare plastered onto his face.

"Oh, a simple gun won't do the trick."

"No? But I'm hopin' it'll hurt like hell." Dean pulled the trigger, and a the bullet landed in her gut.

Dame Blanche jumped away from Sam, and held her gut.

"Well...I tried."

"Not as big of a reaction that you were expecting?"

Dean shrugged and shoved his gun away, this time charging at her head on. "Get...away...from...him!"

As he was about to jump, the two lutins that were previously close by Sam intervened. They both held fire-pokers/swords...? Dean didn't know how to describe them except as that. The one Dean had kicked earlier was glaring hardcore at him. _Crap_. Dean didn't really know how to fight them back. But they were just hobgoblins, right? They should die the same way as their master...which was still a mystery to Dean.

He scanned the room for anything he could use for a defense, and was dismayed to find nothing long enough to fight against...poker swords. He made a decision and kicked at one of the lutins holding the...poker sword, and he luckily caused it to stumble and drop it's poker sword. Dean moved quickly and grabbed it, just in time to block an attack from the other lutin. He pushed it back and stabbed the poker sword into the lutin's gut. A spur-of-the-moment decision, and Dean was darn glad he made it. It dropped it's poker sword and fell to the ground. What surprised Dean was that it slowly began to dissolve into dirt.

 _Sword poker's._ He turned and stabbed the other - not very well trained - lutin, and it had the same result. He got to his feet and scowled, staring at Dame Blanche, "So normal knives and bullet's don't work...but these poker swords do? What's so special about them?"

"Magic infused..." Dame Blanche's voice trailed off and her mouth shifted into a deep frown. "...kill him!"

It was honestly a ridiculous way to die. Dean was expecting something crazy like torching her under the moon or something. He was just d*mn lucky this lady had the only thing that could kill her lying around...if it wasn't such a perilous situation Dean would have laughed out loud for a good five minutes. Dame Blanche advanced back towards Sam, intention to end him, but Dean wouldn't let that happen. Despite the cats and owls coming towards him, intent to kill _him,_ Dean's goal wasn't on protecting himself. He hoped, at least, that once he killed the insane french spirit woman, the animals would go back to being normal animals. He hoped.

Dean started running, gripping the poker sword tight and braced himself as he ran into owls and cats coming his way. Just as Dame Blanche's...extended fingernails were about to reach Sam's throat, Dean made it to her. His body was on autopilot for the time being, running on nothing but pure adrenaline or else there was no way he could do so much with such an injured leg. Though, he's probably had worse. He stabbed the poker sword into Dame Blanche, relishing in the pained sounds she made as she sunk to her knees.

She looked up at him, "Impressive...underestimated...you..."

With a scream she dissipated into nothing but ash.

"Everyone does."

Dean raced to Sam's side. He quickly removed the straps that bound his brother and looked over his body.

"Sammy..." He murmured. "...I'm so sorry, little brother, we're gonna get you cleaned up right away. You're gonna be just fine."

"You...owe me...twenty dollars..." Sam rasped with a pained grin before collapsing into unconsciousness.

"Yeah, I do..." Dean chuckled hoarsely.

 _It could have been worse_. Dean repeated that to himself as he tried to lift his unconscious brother over his shoulder, which he had to say, was not easy whatsoever. The blood around Sam's body acted almost like a lubricant, and it made it incredibly difficult to keep Sam up. But, Dean managed to do it. He still had some power in him before he collapsed too. He turned towards the way of the door, and almost laughed at his luck to find that the animals were going on their way, not a care in the world like animals should. Yeah, no there was no way Dean could every think of cats or owls in a positive way again.

He didn't know how he did it, but Dean somehow got to the Impala with an injured arm and leg and various other injured body parts, and an extremely injured, unconscious, _heavy_ brother. He couldn't give up just yet.

* * *

Dean was lucky there were hardly any people on the road, or cops watching the road, because he was speeding the most he could to get to the motel fast enough. He needed to treat Sam's wounds...and his own. Once there, Dean superhero-ishly got Sam inside the room and went to work. He pulled of the remainder of Sam's shirt and tugged off his brothers ripped jeans, leaving him in his boxers for his dignity...though the dude could use a shower after this. It could wait though. Dean made good time in cleaning Sam's wounds, and before he knew it, he was done. Sam had bandages from his feet, to his neck. There were a few bandage patches on his face for the cuts as well. Dean felt bad for him, he looked so bad.

Dean turned his attention back to himself. He cut his jeans up so he could have a look at his injury. It looked deep. Dean took himself into the motel bathroom and poured a bit of saline on his gash. He cleaned it the best he could with that, and stitched it up...very painstakingly. After wrapping a bit of the white cloth over that, and tying it tightly, he looked at the one on his arm. Not as deep, but could use stitches too...unfortunately. Once finished with that, thank everything for knowing basic medical procedures, he took a very quick shower, carefully avoiding his newly bandaged leg and arm. Whilst in the shower, he managed to clean the rest of his small injuries, like cuts, bruises or bites. Dean changed into clean clothes before collapsing onto his bed.

He took a sharp intake of breath and looked over at Sam. The poor guy would probably want to wake up to some pants on his legs...but Dean _was_ tired. Dean released a groan and limped over to Sam's bag. He re-dressed his brother in to some sweat pants and a tee shirt, and climbed back to his bed. Sam was lucky to have such a great older brother. Dean was exhausted now. What an evening.

He knew he needed to keep an eye on Sam, just in case he woke up...but Dean couldn't think of anything else except for sleep. His stubbornness had lost for once.

* * *

Sam woke with a jolt. He blinked a few times before realizing how much pain he was in, just around his whole entire body...that's right...the Dame Blanche had tortured him. A groan escaped his lips.

"Hey, Sammy."

Sam moved slowly to look to his side and found Dean sitting up on his motel bed with somewhat of a grin on his face.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, dude."

Sam blinked hard again and looked past Dean at the closed curtains, with a bit of sunlight seeping through.

"How long...was I..."

"Most of the day today, not as long as I would've expected though." Dean responded.

Sam remained quiet.

"Hey, sorry for doubting you." Dean apologized quietly, "I...uh, yeah I know I was being kind of a jerk."

Sam was quite frankly taken back, Dean didn't apologize as often as Sam would hope for...but it was honestly the same for Sam. He would be a hypocrite if he said otherwise. He had to bite his tongue in order not to respond with something snarky, and instead brought a smile to his face, "Forget about it."

"You watched Donnie Brasco recently? Geez forget about it my a*s." Dean tried lightening the mood, a smile playing across his lips. "Oh, I almost forgot."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, "I lost in our bet."

Dean place the bill on the nightstand separating the beds.

"Really though, I am sorry."

"And I forgive you, but next time you should really live by your words 'no body likes a skeptic'." Sam chuckled. "Hey, could you get me some painkillers?"

Dean grunted as he stood and fished some out of his bag. He was glad he stocked up on this stuff. He got Sam a glass of water and gave him the pills. "Bon appetit."

Sam took the pills and then relaxed his muscles a little, "Hey, when are we planning to get out of this town?"

"When you, my brother, are well enough to leave." Dean said. "Hey, what do you think about getting a cat to help us with hunts?"

"Don't even joke about that." Sam warned with a dramatic eye roll and a yawn.

Dean laughed, "better keep getting as much rest as you need, Sammy. We can leave faster if you do."

Sam didn't argue, he smiled half-heartily at Dean before closing his eyes and slipping into a deep slumber. Once he knew he was asleep for sure, Dean gently moved hair out of Sam's face, "Get better soon Sammy."

* * *

 **The End**

* * *

 **Leave a review, I know this wasn't the ideal spn fanfiction, but I hope it intrigued you at the least :)**

 **Thanks for reading!  
**

 **~PoisionedNightshade~**


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